I didn't sleep.
Even with the door locked, guards outside, and what was probably a five-thousand-dollar mattress beneath me, I couldn't stop the thoughts racing through my mind like a freight train with no brakes.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the man in the alley. His blood. Alessio's eyes.
"You're mine."
I wrapped my arms around my knees, curled up on the edge of the bed like a child waiting for the monster under the bed to disappear. But in my case, the monster wore custom-tailored suits and knew my entire life story.
The sun rose, slanting gold light through the heavy curtains. I hadn't moved. My mouth was dry, my muscles stiff, and my brain still refused to process the fact that I wasn't dreaming. I was really here. In some kind of gilded prison.
A soft knock startled me.
"Miss Elena?" A woman's voice. "May I come in?"
I hesitated. "Y-Yes?"
The door opened, revealing a woman in her forties with kind brown eyes, neatly tied hair, and a calm demeanor that didn't match the chaos I was feeling. She wore a modest black dress and carried a tray.
"Good morning. I'm Anna. I'll be your personal maid."
My maid.
My mind stumbled over the words. What the hell kind of world was I in?
"I brought breakfast. Mr. Moretti instructed that you be well taken care of."
Mr. Moretti.
That was the first time I'd heard his last name.
Alessio Moretti. It sounded familiar—too familiar. I'd heard it before. Somewhere.
I sat up slowly as she set the tray on a nearby table—fresh fruit, croissants, eggs, and a steaming cup of tea. My stomach growled on instinct, but my mind recoiled.
"I'm not hungry," I muttered.
She gave me a gentle look. "You'll feel better if you eat."
"Will I feel better if I leave?"
Her smile faltered. "You're not a prisoner, Elena. Not really."
"Then can I walk out the front door right now?"
She hesitated. "No."
"Then don't tell me I'm not a prisoner."
Anna looked at me with something close to pity. "He's not what you think."
"He's a murderer."
Her lips pressed into a line. "He's also the reason you're still alive."
I looked away. "I didn't ask to be saved."
"No," she said quietly. "But you're not the first who's thought that and ended up thanking him later."
Before I could respond, the door opened again.
And there he was.
Alessio.
Freshly dressed in a dark shirt and slacks, no tie, sleeves rolled up like he was about to sit down for coffee instead of run a criminal empire. His eyes found mine immediately. I felt them like a touch, sliding over my skin, igniting sparks I didn't want.
Anna gave a small bow and excused herself, closing the door behind her.
He didn't speak right away. Just looked at me. Studied me.
I hated how my breath caught in my throat.
"You didn't sleep," he finally said.
"Was I supposed to? After watching you kill someone and then being locked in a mansion with strangers?"
He didn't flinch. "I gave you a room. Food. Safety."
"That's not safety," I snapped. "That's control."
His jaw tightened.
"I could've had you killed, Elena. But I didn't. I brought you here because you saw something you shouldn't have. And instead of silencing you, I spared you."
"Why?" I asked. "Why me? Why spare me?"
He took a step closer. Then another. I stayed seated, spine rigid, refusing to shrink.
"Because there's something about you I don't understand," he said. "Something that makes it impossible to let you go."
I swallowed. "That's not romantic. That's obsession."
He smiled faintly. "Maybe. But I've never been the romantic type."
Silence stretched between us. Then he spoke again, softer.
"Have you heard my name before?"
I nodded. "Moretti. It sounds familiar."
"It should. My family built this city from the underground up. We don't run from power. We are power."
"You sound proud of that."
"I am."
"I'm not impressed."
That stopped him. Something flickered in his eyes—amusement? Intrigue?
"I didn't bring you here to impress you, Elena. I brought you here to protect you."
"From what?"
He didn't answer.
"You're lying," I said. "There's something else going on."
He moved so fast I didn't see it coming.
Suddenly, he was beside the bed, crouched in front of me, eyes locked with mine.
"There are men in this city who would do worse to you than I ever could. Men who saw you run from that alley. Men who will come for you if they believe you're unprotected."
His voice was low, dangerous. My pulse spiked.
"I'm not keeping you here to punish you, Elena. I'm keeping you here to keep you alive."
My breath caught.
"And if I still want to leave?"
He looked at me for a long moment.
"Then you can," he said. "But not yet. Not until I know you're safe."
I didn't know whether to believe him.
But the worst part?
A tiny part of me already did.